Nec Cupias Nec Metuas
by BlueBelle73
Summary: Hal and Lord Harry - one follows the other, together they are one. Can Hal allow himself to ever love somebody again or will Lord Harry destroy them both?


**Note: **

_This story begins (and from this point forward diverges from the canon into my own AU) right at the end of episode 4 of season 5 where Hal sits on the settee by the window with Rook's little flask of human blood clutched in his hands._

**Summer 2012**

**Honolulu Heights, Hal's Room**

In the semi-darkness of his room, Hal Yorke sat in his favourite leather two seater settee by the bay window and regarded the small flask and the precious liquid it contained with increasing hunger.

He remembered his own words to Ian Crumb about the blood lust spiking at times of stress just a few days earlier and here he was – trying and increasingly failing to resist the raging screams of his vampire nature that demanded to be fed and filled with the invigorating life force that only human blood contained in the exact right quantities to make him feel truly alive.

He turned the small flask over and over in his hands whilst watching the thick red fluid swirl inside the glass walls and imagining its sweet metallic taste pleasuring his taste buds.

Although cold and at least few days old already Hal knew that he had been abstinent from blood long enough so that even the relatively small quantity in the bottle would quench his thirst and satisfy the raging creature inside of him for at least a few days.

His eyes briefly fell on the mantelpiece where the photo of Leo had stood but he had never bothered to replace the photo frame after the malicious ghost Kirby had broken into his room and broken it. The photo now lay safely inside a book in the top drawer of his bedside cabinet.

Sweat broke out on his forehead. If only Leo was here now – he would have known how to calm him down and help him suppress the urge. But Leo was long gone and Pearl with him and although Hal no longer felt as desperately lonely as he first had after they'd crossed over, in times of trouble he still clung to Leo's memory like a child to his loving father.

He held the bottle still and closed his eyes, swallowing hard as he did so. He would just sniff at it briefly. Yes – there was no harm in just sniffing at it briefly. He would do this and then he would feel better and put the bottle away and maybe even return downstairs to where Tom and Alex were sitting and watching a silly TV show. Just one quick delicious whiff of human blood and all would be better.

Clutching the bottle in his left hand he deftly unscrewed the top with his right and raised it to just under his nose as soon as the top was off.

With closed eyes and slightly pursed lips his sensitive nostrils flared as they took in the onslaught of the delectable scent of salt and iron and copper and he inhaled with a deep shuddering breath.

Yes, yes this was it, the delicious perfume of the blood that he'd been craving for so long and had been denying himself for so many years. Behind closed eyelids he pictured himself drawing it freshly from a tender blue vein in a delicate and pale neck; felt his gums itch as his fangs broke through the skin and slid over his teeth in anticipation to be buried in whatever soft warm flesh there was available for them.

Hal felt his resolve diminish by the second. But so what? He had failed Crumb, he had let everyone down, and how could he possibly have hoped he could rehabilitate another vampire if he himself couldn't even control his needs? And one day, everyone would be gone from his life, even young Tom who would most likely marry Alison and have his own family whilst he would live on and watch them grow old and die before his eyes. And then what? He would be alone again.

So what was the point in holding himself back and putting on a mask of civility if in the end everyone around him died anyway? Was there really any point in postponing the inevitable?

Lord Harry only briefly opened his eyes before he tipped his head back and raised his arm so the precious blood could spill out of the open bottle neck and down his parched throat. He hardly took the time to breathe as he gulped down the sweet sticky liquid with ravenous thirst and only when the bottle was empty did he lower his arm again and opened his eyes with a low grunt of pleasure from his quivering lips.

The effect of the blood was strong and immediate – it filled his stomach, was absorbed quickly by his arteries and veins and rushed through his body like liquid fire, hitting his brain within seconds, and enveloping him in the warmth and feeling of intense pleasure that was unlike anything else one could experience.

His pupils dilated instantly until his eyes were completely black as he relished the pure ecstasy of the bloodlust.

With an almost imperceptible smile he opened his mouth to allow his tongue to creep out and lick the last few drops of remaining blood from his chin. You couldn't let something so precious go to waste.

Lord Harry smiled broadly now. This was good. This was so good.

Disclaimer:  
This story is based upon the BBC series of 'Being Human' by Toby Whitehouse. All characters and situations other than my own belong to the BBC. I do not benefit financially or otherwise from this site or my works. I am in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.


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